A Long Ago Library Love Story by Ninkita
by MeetTheMateContest
Summary: A bad day, a chance encounter and a long-ago love story. It sure wasn't what Bella expected, but it might be exactly what she needed.


**Title:** A Long Ago Library Love Story

 **Summary:** A bad day, a chance encounter and a long-ago love story. It sure wasn't what Bella expected, but it might be exactly what she needed.

 **Pairing:** Esme &Carlisle, Bella&Edward

 **Rating:** T

 **Word count:** 3457

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 **A Long Ago Library Love Story**

Today was turning out to be a pretty bad day. A no good, horrid, wish it would just get over kind of day. A waking up late, battling a headache, finding the milk was spoiled, missing out on my morning coffee kind of day. It didn't help that it was exactly one year ago on this day that I had lost my dad, the one person who had always been there for me. My mother had never cared, and I wasn't sure that sting would ever go away. I didn't even know for sure where she was these days.

At least dad would be proud of me, I reminded myself. I was in college, and in another year I would have my degree in early childhood education. I had picked myself up and gone about getting my life together as best as I could all alone, but it had taken its toll. I felt so numb most days. It would've been nice to have people who cared.

I huffed and set down a pile of books on the small table near the rear of the library, grimacing a little at the small cloud of dust that rose with the action. A delicate little sneeze alerted me to the fact that I wasn't the only one around.

A little to my right sat a well dressed older lady. She must have been in her sixties, I estimated, judging by the silver of her upswept hair and the fine lines around her eyes. There was an air of fragility about her that made me want to coddle her with a warm blanket and hot chocolate for some reason. I shook my head. It was the height of summer.

There were plenty of older people who dropped by to spend a few hours here, especially during the weekday mornings. I had noticed this lady in particular, because she didn't seem to be very social, despite her sweet demeanor and ready smile. I had never seen her join Mrs. Cope's group of do-gooders, or Mr. Berty's table of political debaters. She didn't join the doting grandmas when they gathered outside the library on rare sunny days, sharing pictures of grandchildren, pets and God alone knows what else. I swear I had even seen a flash of naked cowboy butt on one of their phones once. Nasty.

Anyway, this lady mostly sat alone reading quietly in the comfortable couches closest to the classics, and near the windows. She was closer to the history texts today, though, and seemed to be alone. I had seen a young brunette about my own age with her once or twice. To be honest, it was the girl's shoulder-length, sharply layered hair that had caught my attention first, since I was considering doing something new to my own rather heavy fall of wavy, uninspiring brown hair. She was more attentive to the older lady than any paid attendant I had ever seen. More so than many family members either, if I was being honest. It was nice to see, and had stuck with me, giving me a warm feeling.

I snapped out of my abstraction when she sneezed again. I quickly dusted my hands and made my way over, a little concerned and a little guilty at having caused her possible discomfort in the first place.

"Hi, I'm sorry, can I get you something? A glass of water, or tissues or something?"

The lady smiled at me, and there was something so motherly and warm about her, it made my heart ache.

"No, my dear, it's alright. The dust is part of the charm of reading a book, don't you think? Alice, my grandniece, tried to get me to read on a... Kindling, I think it was called, but it just has nothing on a real book. Running your finger along the print, the smell of the paper, the heft of the book in your hand... it's so much more than just reading, in my opinion."

I couldn't hold back my grin at her enthusiasm.

"I absolutely agree! That's one of the reasons I applied for a job here at the library over the summer. It's soothing to be around books. Every time I open a book, it feels a bit like a new adventure. When I browse the shelves, there's always something new, just waiting for me to read it. Every time I open the covers, it's a whole new world, a different perspective on life or people, or situations that I had never considered earlier. It thrills me how sometimes a book seems to call out to be read—and I just can't resist."

I blushed a little as I realized I may have over-shared a bit, what with my word-vomit tendencies. It was hard to hold back my passion for books, though. It had been too long since someone had cared enough to listen.

"I know exactly what you mean!" she chuckled, as though at a private joke. Her eyes took on a slightly wistful look as she continued, "A long time ago, that feeling, that pull of books, brought me to the most wonderful man. In this very library, as a matter of fact."

My eyes widened. That sounded so romantic—and strangely, so sad. "I would love to hear about it, if you wouldn't mind sharing with me," I said, oddly hopeful to hear her long-ago library love story.

That seemed to lift the slight melancholy from her expression, which once again sparkled with joy and warmth as she looked at me. "You are a sweet child," she said; then paused and gave a little laugh. "Oh, I didn't even ask your name! I'm Esme Cullen."

I took the hand she offered, and replied, "Bella Swan. I am so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cullen."

She patted my hand before releasing it. "Just Esme will do, my dear. I would like to think of you as a friend."

The sincerity in her tone brought a lump to my throat. How long had it been since someone had spoken to me with such fondness? I swallowed to tamp down the sudden rush of loneliness and self-pity that flooded through me. "Esme, I am more than happy to be your friend. And I would be honored if you shared your story with me."

Her eyes lit up, making her look much younger than she was. I was struck by the thought that she must have been a remarkably pretty girl.

"I come to this library at least three days a week," she began. "I have done so for the last two years, since I moved back. Oh, I used to live here, in Forks, when I was a young girl. The library was my favorite place as a child, but not so much as a teenager. There were other, more exciting ways to spend my time. Dates, dances and drives—I thought I was living life instead of just reading about it. I'm sure things haven't changed so much over the last 50 years," she smiled, casting a glance around the library. It was true, there were always plenty of children at the library, but the teenagers tended to stay away. Dates at the library didn't seem to be a popular idea.

"One Friday afternoon, my gran asked me to run to the library and get her a new book to read. I don't remember the name of the book, but I do recall feeling so annoyed that I'd have to delay plans with my friends. The librarian said she'd kept the book aside and would fetch it for me. Instead of waiting at the counter, I started wandering through the stacks. I don't think there was any conscious thought guiding me, just a compulsion, a restless energy drawing me towards the books. I was so conflicted back then, and the familiarity of the books soothed me." Esme paused for a moment, then asked, "How old are you, Bella, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm twenty three, Esme."

She nodded and continued. "I had just turned 18, high school was almost over. I wanted to become a doctor and join the army. Serve, do my patriotic duty, all that. My parents were dead set against it. They wanted me to get married and settle down to a safe, predictable life, and it made me so angry! But did I have it in me to really push for what I wanted? I look back now, and I see myself, and I see so much fear. I had a dream, but I was so scared. I didn't even know if I could trust myself, and it was so much easier believing my parents when they said I couldn't."

I looked down at my hands, gripped together tightly in my lap. Well, that sounded familiar. That sounded like me, a few years ago, after one of Renee's epic rants. That was before dad had sat me down and told me that _he_ believed in me. Esme's voice brought me back to the present… or her past, to be more accurate.

"I was walking through the stacks, trailing my fingers along the spines of the books, when one book literally grabbed me. My finger had somehow gotten tangled on the loose binding. I pulled it out to free my finger, and in the gap behind the book, I saw the deepest blue eyes staring back at me. I don't know why, but I pushed my hand through the gap, and told him my name. He grabbed my fingers and introduced himself—Carlisle, 17, going to enlist in the army."

Esme sighed. "My heart skipped a beat, Bella. I didn't even know what this man really looked like, but I had a horrible feeling of panic at the thought of him going to war. I think I blurted out something inane, like, 'What if you get shot?' And he said, 'If I get hurt, you save me, ok?' The librarian called out to me just then, so he kissed my fingers and let me go. I don't know why neither of us walked over to the next row and met in person, so to say. It just didn't strike me, back then. I got the book for gran and went home. I was still a foolish 18 year old, but after that brief meeting, something inside me changed. I didn't even notice it at first, but suddenly, I wasn't so scared anymore. I just knew that I had to follow my dreams, no matter how afraid I was."

"Esme, that's just…that's so romantic." Furtively wiping away the tears that had sprung to my eyes, I reached out to hold her hand. The skin was soft, but looked parchment thin, with clearly visible veins. The difference in our ages was right there, etched in the skin of our hands as they lay clasped together.

She shook her head with a wry smile. "I suppose you could say that. My gran passed away when I was 19, and left me a tidy sum of money. I used it to fund my education, since my parents absolutely refused. But becoming a doctor wasn't so easy back then. Colleges flatly refused to even consider a woman applicant. So I applied for nursing instead. The next few years were incredibly tough without my family's support, I won't lie. But at the same time, I had this strong conviction that what I was doing was right. I had good friends. I was happy enough, but my parents… they never understood. I called my dad the day I was posted to Nam, and he just hung up on me. I hadn't heard much from them in all those years. I would send letters and call home every once in a while, but my parents? They were about as warm as a blizzard."

I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped my lips. I knew exactly how that felt, and if I had to describe certain people in my life, I would have been hard put to choose better words.

Esme smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. "Ah, you know, don't you? Well, I won't dwell on that. The anti-war sentiment hereabouts didn't help much either. Anyway, I was finally where I wanted to be, where I was needed, and I knew I was doing what I was truly meant to. You must have heard and read about the 'horrors of war', Bella. What months of training, ideology and patriotism too often comes down to, is a lot of pain. I did my best to help reduce some of that pain for the soldiers, but mostly I was just closing physical wounds. Did they get help for their emotional and psychological wounds? I would like to think so, but I've seen enough to know that didn't always happen." She paused, with a slight shake of her head. "I'm sorry dear, this is getting a little heavy for a weekday afternoon, isn't it?"

"Not at all, Esme. I honestly can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be at this moment. I'm just stunned at the thought of what you must have seen and gone through," I responded honestly.

"I'm glad you don't have to find out, dear. The war was bad enough, but being a woman in that environment wasn't particularly easy either. What you would now call sexual harassment was called 'harmless' back then. We grew pretty good at avoiding grasping hands and roving eyes. A lot of my colleagues grew detached over time. We focused on what we had to do. Just another wound to sew up, just another body that didn't make it through, just another day at work. We had to stop tearing ourselves up over every soldier we couldn't save, every arm and leg that had to be amputated, every soldier who lost his memory and his life."

I couldn't suppress the shiver that ran up my spine at the bleak picture she painted. I'd read about wars and soldiers and their experiences, of course, but to hear it like that from someone who'd lived it was an entirely different experience. More than her words, it was how her expressive eyes clouded over, how her smooth forehead furrowed in remembered pain, and how her voice became so flat and matter of fact. It was so at odds with the passion she'd shown just moments ago.

"It's a heavy burden, Bella, and sometimes you just need to step back and realize that you can only do so much." She smiled a wistful smile, and I couldn't hold back my question.

"Did you ever find out what happened to Carlisle? Did you ever meet him again?"

She laughed, a delightful sound that immediately lightened up the atmosphere that had become so dark with her memories of the war. "My dear, I saw his eyes for all of five minutes once when I was 18. But I certainly never forgot him. I dreaded seeing him in Nam, to be honest, because it would most likely mean he was injured. Yet, I had never asked for his last name, so I had no idea how to find him. I just had another month before I finished my rotation and could come home. There was heavy firing overnight, and the next morning, we had our work cut out. One of the patients had been operated as soon as they brought him in. He had managed to avoid an exploding grenade, and had saved at least ten other men in the process. He was pretty heavily bandaged, but you could tell he was good looking. My roommate used to tease me that I always got the best looking patients… in the middle of so much pain and carnage, I can't deny it was nice to see some pretty faces." She winked at me, before flashing me a cheeky little grin. I gave a startled laugh.

"He was unconscious or asleep the first three days during my shifts, though. On the fourth day, the doctor had just visited, and he was awake. The moment I saw those blue eyes, I knew. It was Carlisle."

I drew in a sharp breath. "Wow, it's like you were fated to meet again. In the middle of the war… I can't even imagine what that must have felt like! Did he remember you? What happened next?"

Esme's eyes held an ancient sadness, yet a sparkle of joy. She smiled, but before she could speak again, soft footsteps approached. We turned and saw her brunette companion, who I now surmised was Alice, hurry over.

"Aunt Es, are you ready to leave? Jasper will be outside in five minutes to get us," she said.

"Alice, come meet Bella. This is my grandniece, Alice, and this is Bella Swan, my newest friend," she said, gesturing between us. Alice gave me a friendly smile and nod, which I returned with a little awkwardly polite hand wave. "Bella, dear, I'm sorry, but I need to leave now. I truly enjoyed our chat," Esme continued, clearly apologetic at having to leave.

Everything she said and did just reminded me more forcefully of the parental love and familial affection that I didn't have in my life. Yet that short half hour in her company had uplifted my entire outlook and I was nothing but grateful for having met her.

"Esme, I'm already looking forward to meeting you again, soon." I clasped her outstretched hand, and then, unable to help myself, I hugged her. There was such comfort in her softness, in the mildly floral scent that enveloped her. I blinked quickly before releasing her.

Esme's eyes were suspiciously damp as well, as she moved towards Alice. I waved to both of them, watching silently as Alice helped her aunt over to the doors. For several minutes after they had disappeared from sight, I stood staring into space.

The sound of a book falling with a loud 'thwack' onto a table behind me startled me back to reality. Turning around, I saw a tall man with messy reddish-brown hair struggling to prevent another book from falling off the teetering pile in his arms. I hurried over, grabbing half the books and placing them on the table so that he could do the same with the rest, without further mishap.

"Thank you so much, I really thought I had that pile under control, but when I tried to set them down… well, you know what happened," he rambled in a deep, rather gravelly voice, pushing up his wire framed glasses and looking up at me.

I gasped. Brilliant green eyes stared back at me with an arrested expression. After a beat, he blinked, then held out his hand with a charmingly crooked smile.

"Hi, I'm Edward Masen," he said.

"Bella Swan," I replied. Then, before my brain could catch up with my mouth, I blurted out, "You aren't planning on joining the army, are you?"

A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows. "Not really. I'm hoping to pass some exams and become a vet, actually. Just not a war-vet, you know? Umm, do you only date guys in the army?" I could have sworn the tips of his ears turned red, as his eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, sorry… It's just, I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation with the lady earlier, and you were talking about war, or at least she was, so … Uh, yeah, sorry about that."

Two bright pink spots had now appeared high on his cheeks, and I was sure my cheeks matched his for color at that moment. I shook my head and grinned, probably looking a little foolish. "Not at all. I'm relieved I won't have to become a nurse."

It was now my turn to bite my lip, looking up at him cautiously to see how crazy he thought I sounded. To my surprise, he looked rather pleased. Before my blush could deepen, I spoke again. "Do you need any help with those books?"

He grinned back and said, "I'd love some help."

We stood there, grinning at each other for another beat, before breaking out into hushed laughter. It did not escape me that even a day before, I would never have had the confidence to banter with such an attractive, albeit goofy man. Maybe meeting Esme had triggered the same self confidence in me, that meeting Carlisle had triggered in her all those years ago. Whatever the cause, I felt more hopeful and alive in this moment, than I had in a long, long while. That alone made this a very good day indeed.

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